


Moose Calls

by metrophobic



Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And then he piddles himself, Bottom Craig, Craig is a grumpy little bitch, Kenny is gross and has no shame, Light Bondage, Lots of ridiculous banter, M/M, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex in the woods, Summer Camp Counselors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metrophobic/pseuds/metrophobic
Summary: He’s not pleading with him, because he knows he doesn’t have to resort to such ridiculous tactics; Craig will do it because he’ll do anything Kenny tells him to.





	Moose Calls

**Author's Note:**

> Found this sitting in my Gdocs from 2015, only a few paragraphs away from completion. So I decided to finish it. You're welcome.

“I didn’t actually come out here to meet you,” Craig says.

And it makes Kenny laugh, because it’s such a blatant lie, Craig’s so unbelievably _transparent_ all the time and he never seems to quite get it. But that’s all right. They’re on the cusp of adulthood, in the summer between their junior and senior years and Craig insists that volunteering at places will look good on their college resumes, yet he bitches about the kids they’re supervising at this camp more than anyone else. Kenny could care less about university; he hasn’t even bothered applying, not because he sees himself with no future but because he’d rather carve out his own right now, and higher education has yet to make the cut. He’s only here because he actually likes children. “We were their age once,” has become his mantra, especially once he discovered it pisses Craig off.

Kenny just shrugs, takes a deep inhale from the smuggled joint he’s holding pinched in his fingers, far out in the woods behind the cabins. He doesn’t bring the green along to sell to his fellow counselors, and certainly not for the children. Craig asked once, sarcastically, if he planned to deal and truly make a difference in the lives of these kids they’re supposed to be forming rapports with. There’s still a dusky little mark on the side of his face from where Kenny struck him.

“Then why are you here?” Kenny asks now, bright-eyed and smiling. It was his idea to sneak out here after Craig pointed the area out in the first place, and when Kenny said he wanted to show him something later that night, Craig was ambiguous about accepting. Probably because he'd gotten used to the tone in Kenny’s voice, and knew that “something” was really just his cock. They’ve been dating for almost a year now, after all.

For someone as perceptive as Craig, he really was a complete moron sometimes.

“I came out here to piss,” is Craig’s answer. Kenny snorts back another bout of laughter at that, grabbing him by the wrist before he can unzip his chino shorts and haul his dick out.

“Bullshit,” he replies. “There’s a perfectly good bathroom five-hundred feet from your cabin.”

“I hate those disgusting places,” Craig argues. “They’re just glorified outhouses.”

Kenny tuts at him, dragging in deep another hit before waving the stick encouragingly in front of Craig’s face. To his supreme enjoyment, the offer’s accepted, Craig shutting his eyes as he breathes in. Kenny always enjoys watching him smoke--weed is the only form in which he partakes--because he looks like he’s really _savouring_ it, like he’s just been handed the secret to the universe or some other cliched crap. It’s also a look reminiscent of when Kenny pulls him into a slowly-rolling pleasure, like running his tongue over the surface of his cock or sliding a finger into his ass. The thought makes Kenny’s blood warm all over again, muscle twitching to life between his thighs.

“Anyway,” Craig murmurs, passing the joint back over and reaching to loosen his shorts. Kenny catches him before he can do so, however, and presses his hands to Craig’s shoulders so he can kiss him, tongue flicking over his bottom lip. Craig tastes like the bud he’d just inhaled and Kenny imagines _he_ probably does, too. The air around them is sharp with the distinct flavour of marijuana-smoke, and Kenny stubs it out against his thumb before tucking the remainder carefully into his pocket. He nudges Craig up against the tree behind him, and finds himself briefly wondering if that’s a place he marked several times before, like a dog. If it’s covered in piss-stains at this very moment, now smearing into Craig’s shirt and the ass of his pants. It’s a nasty little arousing thought. Kenny almost wants Craig to grab him by the hair and grind his cheek up against the bark to teach him a lesson about manners.

“Anyway what?” Kenny asks sweetly. He reaches down between Craig’s thighs and unabashedly grabs at his balls, which makes him jerk his hips in response, breath hitching.

“Do you mind,” Craig growls, but he isn’t fighting Kenny off. They kiss more fervently, Craig a much more willing participant as he reaches down to grab a handful of Kenny’s ass. Kenny arches up against him with delight.

“I knew you didn’t really have to pee,” Kenny coos against Craig’s mouth while he skirts his fingers up the hem of his shirt, dragging them over the lean muscles of his abdomen and down the line of hair under his navel. He plucks open the fastenings to Craig’s shorts, pleased to find him half-hard already.

“Actually--”

Kenny ignores him, reaching into his other pocket and procuring a shoestring taken from his own sneaker, which sits open on his left foot. “What would you do if I tied you to this tree right now?”

“Kick the crap out of you, probably,” Craig grinds out. Kenny’s still worked up against him and he ducks his head; there’s something sharp and piercing in the crook of Kenny’s neck that makes him gasp out loud. “That string isn't long enough, anyway,” Craig points out after releasing his teeth. Kenny has the feeling that Craig would have liked to suck the skin dark, but he never really makes good on that-- he’s operating under the assumption that Kenny strives to hold as much dignity as he does. It’s moot here, anyway, though. Kenny wouldn’t dream of corrupting these poor kids, not even with a visible lovebite.

“Yeah,” he replies with a touch of disappointment. Kenny snatches up Craig’s wrists, wrapping the shoelace around them over and over and knotting it tight before kissing each of them and letting go. They’re not tied behind him but in front, and Craig’s holding them out, staring at Kenny like he’d just gone mental.

“What the fuck is this supposed to be.”

“Bondage for noobs,” Kenny answers, grinning broadly. He’s not actually a “noob” and neither is Craig, but who brings handcuffs and switches and leather straps to a kids’ summer camp? They’d be thrown out in seconds, and besides, Kenny knows firsthand how completely fucking warped your life becomes after being introduced to sex at such an early age. His childhood isn’t anything he’d take back, minus that little inconvenient curse that’s plagued him forever, but he wouldn’t wish it on anyone else either. He ducks down a little and rises up in the center of the triangle formed by Craig’s arms and his lean chest, reaching to tug Craig’s wrists down around him until they’re resting against the middle of his back.

“This is stupid,” Craig intones, but he’s staring right into Kenny’s face, invoking nothing-- especially not their word. Kenny leans in and kisses him on the mouth, pushing him up against the tree again with the weight of his own body. Their groins brush together and it elicits a sigh from Craig, answered by the swipe of Kenny’s tongue over the seam of his mouth, then against his teeth.

“You whine the most about free sex out of any blatantly gay dude I’ve met.” Kenny’s feeling pretty damn awesome right about now. His head feels light from cannabis and lust and Craig smells good, with Kenny lowering his nose to the crook of his neck to breathe him in, all woodsy and real without that stupid cologne he normally wears.

“I’m not whining.”

“Of course you’re not.” Kenny grins, reaching down to tug Craig’s shirt up his torso best as he can. The sight of his chest always makes Kenny salivate a little, with its lines of firm, lean muscle and coffee complexion. Craig’s arms, neck and sternum hold up well in the heat of summertime, bronzed deeper under the sun. Kenny always wants to bite his dark little nipples, and he does, curling his tongue around one and sinking his teeth in with a playful little purr. Craig sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing beautifully, and Kenny straightens on his feet. “Arms up.” Craig actually listens to him, hoisting up his bound wrists into the shape of an A and even twists and turns without complaint to let Kenny pull the shirt over his head. He sort of lowers his arms then, letting them hang awkwardly in front of his naked chest with the shirt clumsily bunched up at his elbows.

“Great job,” he quips. “Now what’re you gonna do?”

Kenny just laughs, reaching up to run his fingers through Craig’s slightly-mussed hair, smoothing it into place. “Whatever the fuck I want,” is his gleeful answer. Craig shakes his head ruefully, but then he’s closing his eyes while Kenny licks him from collarbone to sternum and pulls open his shorts. Kenny dips his hand inside, and he’s elated to find Craig’s gotten almost completely hard at this point, thick and warm against his palm.

“Thought so,” Kenny murmurs appreciatively, hauling Craig’s dick out of his shorts so he can play around with it. His thumb drags through the tiny slit, making the length of him twitch a little, and Kenny sinks down low again. “Want me to suck your cock? ‘cause I’m totally ready for you to fuck my mouth.”

“Good,” Craig answers, and as soon as Kenny’s lips close around the crown of him he’s rolling his hips forward, letting him slide over his boyfriend’s tongue. Kenny coos with delight and reaches up to grab a fistful of his ass, fingers probing between his cheeks. “Don’t you dare,” Craig mutters, but it’s a weak order.

“Yeah,” Kenny mumbles around his mouthful of flesh, “right.” He rubs his index finger along Craig’s asshole, feeling it flutter deliciously under his touch, and then proceeds to squirm the tip of it inside. Craig grunts dangerously above him.

“You’re fucking dead.”

The irony stings a little, but it’s a good hurt, and a fond chuckle bubbles up in the back of Kenny’s throat. He can feel Craig pushing him out, involuntarily, and he lets it happen, heat clenching in his stomach and blossoming all the way down. He’s not pushing him _away_ , though, and that’s what bids Kenny to drag his tongue up the underside of Craig’s length, teasingly rubbing it under the edge of the cock-head until he pulls back enough to shove a middle digit into his mouth and slurp away. He looks up when he does this, holding Craig’s gaze, which has gone murky and lidded. Craig shuffles above him like he’s uncomfortable, bound hands brushing along Kenny’s back.

“That’s good,” Kenny says when he pulls his finger out of his mouth, wiping a little extra wetness from his chin and winding his arm around the backs of Craig’s thighs so he can get at him again, “good boy.” It’s overly saccharine like an inside joke, but Kenny’s starting to wonder if they really see it that way anymore. He pushes all the way inside and watches with pride as Craig’s eyes slide closed, a heavy breath falling from his parted lips. Kenny’s pretty fucking hard at this point, feeling it throb wantonly against his thigh where his dick’s still in his pants, but he doesn’t move to touch himself or even adjust. He likes it this way, how he gets worked up just from watching Craig slowly dissolve under his hands and mouth; he likes seeing how long he can hold out. Most boys at the tender age of almost-eighteen would probably shoot off right down their own legs, but being corrupt and broken before his time has a way of building up a guy’s resistance.

“Like that?” Kenny prompts. “Like having me play with your asshole while I suck you off. It’s your favourite thing.” That’s only sort of true, though, even as it’s framed as fact. Kenny leans in to swipe his tongue over the head of Craig’s dick, flickering it over and over like it’s some girl’s clit, and Craig goes just about as nuts for it as they do. He bites his lip, not to be demure but to keep himself from making any noise, brow knit and eyes still shut like he’s concentrating.

“ _Mmm,_ ” is what slips out anyway, and Kenny rewards him by bringing his other hand up to play with his balls. “They’re gonna hear you,” Craig finally whispers harshly, though he doesn’t open his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, you idiot.”

“No they won’t,” Kenny laughs, but he leans forward to engulf the head of Craig’s prick again, fucking him slow and careful. It’s just the one finger that he keeps to, briefly contemplating trying to make Craig tell him what he wants, but he’ll give a point in favour of their circumstances this time around. He takes Craig into his mouth, and Craig picks up on it like it’s his cue, hips rocking desperately, clearly caught between two places of exquisite raw _feeling_ and shaking from it. Kenny almost wonders if this really will be the time he’ll personally explode in his own pants after all, from how beautifully Craig breaks apart even when he’s trying not to, from the little hitches of breath above him and the tensing muscles in Craig’s midsection, in his thighs and especially in his asshole, flexing vulnerable against Kenny’s hand.

“Hey,” Craig manages, miraculously, though it’s little more than a breath, “I’m gonna come, I’m-- I’m coming.” The chalky, bittersweet stuff fills Kenny’s mouth and he swallows it back, smiling around Craig’s dick. Sometimes he’ll get a name out of him but this time Craig just hisses out, _fuck, oh fuck_ and that’s just as hot. Kenny lets his finger slide out of Craig’s body, and then finally reaches down to adjust himself.

“Gimme a kiss,” he says after pulling Craig’s pants back up and redoing them, standing up straight through the trapped circle of Craig’s arms and rubbing their noses together. Craig’s face scrunches a little, strangely adorable, and he tries to twist away.

“Don’t,” he says, when Kenny grabs his chin and plants one right on his lips. He seems relieved then, but Kenny isn’t actually done, as he lets his tongue probe inside. Craig makes a stupid little grossed-out noise against his mouth, frowning angrily when Kenny pulls back. Kenny’s grinning so hard it almost hurts. “Fucking nasty,” Craig complains, rather childishly. “God damn it. Ugh.”

“You’re such a fucking baby,” Kenny says. “Next time I’m feeding it to you.”

“No fucking way,” Craig retorts, sort of shoving himself forward and knocking his shoulder into Kenny’s chest. Kenny laughs and playfully pushes him back, which makes Craig gasp sharply. “Fuck,” he says with a note of urgency in his tone. “Okay, untie my hands now.”

“Why?” Kenny asks teasingly, reaching down and rubbing his hand over Craig’s midsection, then down over the front of his shorts. “I’m not done yet.”

“Stop, I mean it,” Craig protests weakly, squirming, thighs clenching. There’s a bit of dampness and Kenny looks down to see a few small, dark spots over one of the legs of Craig’s shorts. He definitely just dribbled into them, leaking a little bit from the strain of having ignored his bladder for so long, and the thought makes Kenny throb all over again.

“Aw,” he says with overdone, condescending sympathy. “You pissed yourself. Don’t you know how hard that gets me?” He’s already pretty fucking hard, and he’s never actually witnessed the likes of this with Craig before, but it’s not a lie either.

“Shut the fuck up,” Craig snarls, “I did not.” His voice is wavering, on the verge of complete humiliation. Kenny actually does feel bad now, and he pets Craig’s cheek reassuringly, gently kissing him somewhere near his ear.

“Shh,” he says softly. “Just go.”

“What the fuck,” Craig growls. “No.”

“You already have to change your pants now anyway,” Kenny points out, drawing back so he can actually look down. “Might as well just go for broke, right?”

“Shut the Hell up, it’s not funny.” Craig’s squirming deliciously against him, though, and the shoestring tying his wrists falls away. It was sort of flimsy to begin with anyway. His arms are still kind of tangled up in his shirt, though, and Kenny fights back the urge to laugh at that.

“I’m not laughing.” Kenny isn’t, not now, looking into Craig’s face with the most serious expression he can. “I’m 100% serious. Just fucking piss right here, man. It’s not a big deal.”

“Get this thing off me or take my dick out, then, dipshit.” Craig doesn’t meet his eyes, looking off to some arbitrary point beside them before sucking in a breath and shutting them, gritting his teeth.

“It feels pretty good,” Kenny says, shameless and disgusting and he knows it, but he’s quickly realized he’ll reveal just about anything to get to witness Craig doing this. “I do it sometimes when I’m too lazy to get up. Then I jerk off because of how awesome it feels.”

“Not everyone is sick like you,” Craig mutters. “Actually, I bet no one is. You’re a fucking mess.”

“So are you,” Kenny coos sweetly at him, reaching down and rubbing Craig’s stomach again. Craig twitches away from the touch. “You’re not actually grossed out, you wanna do it or you would have escaped by now, you’re just too embarrassed.”

“No, I’m not.” But Kenny can tell when Craig’s been defeated. It’s a lot easier than the guy lets on. Normally he’d try and play along with preserving his dignity, but he’s too fucking horny right now.

There’s a sudden rustle in the brush nearby, and it’s almost comical the way they both freeze at once, eyes wide and round like a couple of deer in headlights. _Probably a bear or something_ , is Kenny’s first thought, fingers locking tight against Craig’s wrist beneath the fabric, but then there’s the flare of white light and a voice.

“Hello? Who’s out here?”

 _Shit,_ Craig mouths silently, or so it seems anyway-- his lips and teeth come together in a muted hiss and his nostrils flare. He looks like he’s about to bolt in the direction of the cabins, trapped between the urge to relieve himself and the inherent danger in getting caught. Kenny doesn’t relinquish his hold. _Don’t even think about it, stupid_ is what he telepathically beams back, as if that could somehow magically work, which of course it doesn’t. If only mortal life could be that simple.

The footsteps are heavy, drawing nearer; it sounds like there’s two of them. “Uh, is that weed I smell?” comes Mackey’s voice, heavy and immediately recognizable through the dark. Kenny hurries in the opposite direction without another thought, tugging Craig behind him, who sort of crashes through the woods like a fawn on new and shaky legs.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Craig hisses to him when they’re far enough out of earshot that a whisper would float undetected in the muggy night air, among the moths and the occasional shifting breeze. He’s still kind of trapped in his t-shirt, which he’s now furiously wriggling out of, clutching it tight in one hand.

Kenny holds up a hand, shaking his head briskly as he peers over his shoulder. The cone of light from their pursuers’ flashlight dances against the undergrowth, darting to and fro, but it doesn’t wash over them. They’re far away enough, though Kenny wouldn’t call it a safe distance. Not yet. He reaches for Craig’s hand again and tries to lead him further back, light-footed as they can be, but he’s dead weight now, unmoving. Kenny stops in his tracks and stares at him, conveying all of his confusion in one simple look.

“We need to get back to camp,” Craig whispers sharply, his expression a strange combination of anger and a strange, naked fear that Kenny had never seen the likes of before. Kenny shakes his head again, quickly, and points over his shoulder with a slight wave of his hand. When he realizes that doesn’t really explain much, he takes the risk of whispering back.

“They’ll see us if we go back now, stupid.”

Craig shifts in place a little, tongue darting over his lips, staring into the dark behind Kenny’s back. He can’t figure out whether to take Kenny’s word for it or to just abandon him and go back himself, probably proving him right-- that much is obvious. And so he remains rooted to the spot, his breath quivering a little like they’re out in the cold.

It’s when the rustling and the footsteps draw near them again that he finally does act, teeth grit in a sort of resignation as he hauls Kenny after him this time, the both of them quickly darting into another enclave of trees. It’s not as surefooted as Kenny hoped they’d be.

Leaning against their own trunks to catch their respective breaths, Kenny peers around behind his shoulder again, brings his hands up to his mouth, and proceeds to blow into them-- sending a trilling note echoing throughout the woods.

Holy shit, the look on Craig’s face. His mouth falls open like he’s about to freak out, especially when the footsteps come to a grinding halt, but then Mr. Mackey says, “oh, m’kay. It was a moose.” and they grow distant again, trailing away. Kenny laughs quietly into his cupped hands.

“Fuck, I didn’t think that’d actually work.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Craig’s coming at him now, shoving his shoulder so hard that Kenny knocks into the tree behind him. It hurts, a little, but it also just makes him crack up again.

“The look on your face, oh man, you’re so fucking cute, I thought you were going to piss yourself.” Kenny sniffles a little, reining it back in, grinning wide. Craig folds his arms across his chest and his face sort of crumples at that, eyes squeezing tightly shut, sucking a heady breath into his lungs.

“Fuck you,” and his voice suddenly sounds a lot smaller. Kenny reaches out to affectionately push against his chest.

“Chill out, they didn’t find us, we’re fine, yeah?” The predicament from before this recent little catastrophe returns to him, rather suddenly, lost in their shuffle to get away. And then it clicks in his head. Kenny reaches down, feeling along Craig’s thigh. “Oh.”

“Get the fuck off me.” Craig shoves his hand away, but it’s too late; Kenny already felt it.

“Holy fuck, you actually _did_ piss yourself.”

Kenny’s erection hasn’t exactly flagged, maybe a little, but the adrenaline and this latest discovery brings it surging to life again. It throbs impatiently against his thigh, reminding him how he hadn’t gotten off yet from this little escapade of theirs. He replaces his hand on Craig’s thigh, against the damp streak at the cuff of his shorts, thumbing at his skin.

“You’re disgusting,” Craig says angrily, probably in a lame attempt to save face or something, even though his voice is tight. “It was just a little more that escaped.”

Hearing him describe it like that just gets Kenny even more hot and bothered, grinning devilishly as he inches his fingers up into Craig’s shorts. Craig doesn’t push him away this time, only reaches hurriedly for the zipper, but Kenny grabs his wrist. “Hey,” he says, and leans in for a quick kiss.

“I’m not fucking around,” Craig says, but there’s that weary edge in his voice again. “Let go.”

“I’ll kiss you while you do it,” Kenny says. He’s not pleading with him, because he knows he doesn’t have to resort to such ridiculous tactics; Craig will do it because he’ll do anything Kenny tells him to. This is even more evident in the way his hips jerk forward when Kenny rubs a hand over his crotch and then up against his abdomen. He winds an arm around Craig’s middle, and is pleased when Craig finally leans against him.

“Fine,” he says, barely audible. “I just, I really need to go.”

“I know you do,” Kenny says sympathetically, and pushes their mouths together, reaching to squeeze and lightly twist one of those pretty little nipples. Craig’s mouth is warm and wet and opens for him immediately, letting Kenny massage his tongue for a moment, but then he grunts softly and pushes his face into Kenny’s neck. It’s the quiet impact of water hitting cloth and soaking all the way through that catches Kenny’s attention first, but his dick twitches uncomfortably in his pants when he reaches down and touches Craig’s thigh again only to feel the gush of water trickling over his skin. “Damn, boy,” he murmurs appreciatively. “You really had to go.”

“Uh, yeah,” is all Craig can muster up.

Kenny drags his tongue over the shell of an ear, panting a little against it as the rivulet doesn’t exactly _stop_ , not yet, running all the way down to an ankle and pooling on the ground at their feet. “Yeah,” he coos at him, feeling his own heart pound with a lovelorn lust that’s almost sickening, and reveling in it. “That’s right, that’s my good boy, piss for me. Feels good, don’t it?” Craig just kind of nods against him, his fingers clutching at Kenny’s shirt, a low groan rolling from his throat. Kenny can’t tell if it’s a relieved sound or an aroused one, maybe a little of both, and he’s pretty sure he’s leaking too at this point: precome all over the inside of his briefs. He doesn’t stop with the encouragement until Craig’s drained himself completely: quietly telling him how good he is, urging him to piss it all out, to let go just for him.

Craig’s hold relents with the cessation of water against Kenny’s fingers, and Kenny rubs an affectionate little circle against his knee before pulling away. He wipes his fingers on a dry portion of Craig’s shorts, although he suspects with the flood that came out of him it was diluted to the point of being clear water anyway, and brings his hand up to sift it through Craig’s hair.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Craig mumbles, but he’s relaxed into the touch, lips up against Kenny’s neck. Kenny makes a soft _shhh_ noise in reply, petting him.

“Doesn’t that feel so much better?” he prompts after a few more seconds.

“Yeah,” Craig grunts out. “Don’t patronize me, shithead.” But he’s not moving away, seemingly quite content with the security of Kenny’s body against his. Kenny lightly pats the nape of his neck.

“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he says without even a trace of shame. “I need to fuck you right now.” He licks his fingers and promptly shoves them down the back of Craig’s shorts, into his asscrack. Craig gives a little start and pulls away from him.

“Wait, asshole. Did you even bring anything with you?”

“Uh,” Kenny says, reaching into his pocket and fishing out the condom there. “Yeah.”

“No,” Craig says sharply. “You know I need more than that.” It’s true; Craig’s not as accustomed to being filled as Kenny is. That, and his propensity to be a tight-ass in all aspects of the word, require more preparation. Kenny hadn’t thought of it when he grabbed the condom, probably because he’d expected to get it up the ass himself, but now Craig’s flaccid and he’s rock-hard and ready to sink balls-deep into this beautiful boy who’s all his, even and especially the dirty parts of him.

“But you barely even have a semi,” Kenny says sadly, reaching and patting the front of Craig’s shorts. “I’ll go slow, babe. I’m always good to your ass.”

“Fine,” Craig says, undoing his shorts and pushing them and his underwear down to his ankles without another thought. Kenny laughs a little.

“Well, that was easy,” he teases, coming up behind Craig and grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around. Craig braces himself against the tree with his hands, shutting his eyes as Kenny squats down before him a second time, only now it’s to spread his cheeks with his hands and press his mouth between them. Craig groans when Kenny’s tongue rolls over his taint, and spreads his knees when it paints little circles around his asshole. Kenny wets his fingers like before and presses one inside, heat pulsing through him when the instinctive portion of Craig tries to push him back out but the hungry and eager parts pull him in deep. “See?” he says with no small amount of pride. “You’re taking it, you’ll take it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” is Craig’s response. Kenny wants to kiss him sweetly on the mouth but he’s already tormented Craig enough for today, and instead gently bites at his ass-cheek. Craig flexes around him and Kenny pries him open with his fingers, drooling all over to compensate for the lack of lubrication otherwise, only sliding them out when Craig’s contracting deliciously around them, open and ready to go wider for his cock. “Give it here,” Craig says when Kenny starts to rip the condom open, holding his hand out behind him and flexing his fingers open and closed in a beckoning gesture. Kenny presses it into his palm, grinning when Craig shakily stands up and turns around to face him. He drops down to his knees and undoes Kenny’s pants to push them down a little.

“Fuck,” Kenny mutters when Craig pushes the condom against the glistening head of his cock with his fingers, then proceeds to go down using his mouth, sliding the barrier over his length that way with their eyes locked on each other. He taught Craig how to do this, and he loves when he puts it to practice, although Craig hasn’t yet mastered doing it well enough to actually put the condom in his mouth beforehand. He’ll get there one day. Kenny lovingly rubs the back of his head.

“Ugh,” Craig says, drawing back when it’s fully on him. He makes a sour face and wipes a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” Kenny says with that tone that indicates he isn’t really. “I’ll grab a flavoured one next time, just for you.”

“Those are even worse,” Craig remarks, stroking him, his hand warm and strong even through the slick rubber. It’s the first stimulation Kenny’s really gotten tonight and he can’t help but hiss in delight, hips rocking forward. Craig seems pleased by this, because the corner of his mouth actually lifts a little, making him look smug as fuck. It’s actually pretty sexy, but he’s not the one in control here, not tonight.

“Okay, get up again before I nut right here and now.” Kenny nudges at him. The look that flickers over Craig’s features when he rises is so sweet, somehow, that Kenny can’t resist reaching out to touch his face.

Except that Craig’s flinching away, ruining the moment, and Kenny snorts out a laugh. “It’s the other hand. Jesus Christ.” Craig lets him touch him then, and Kenny strokes his fingers over his cheekbone, his lips and down the curve of his handsome jaw while looking deep into his eyes. “Your asshole is clean, anyway,” Kenny says, softly. “Unlike the rest of your personality.”

“Fuck off,” says Craig, shoving at him. Kenny shoves him back, and then takes him by the shoulders and turns him around, pressing him forward against the tree. Craig almost stumbles from the effort, pants still around his ankles, but Kenny’s there to catch him.

“Relax,” he says gently while grinding the length of himself up against Craig’s ass, and this time he’s actually not picking on him, rubbing at the base of his spine. “You’re a good boy. Spread your legs wider.”

Craig does just that, cheek pressed to the bark, eyes closed. His teeth sink into his bottom lip and it’s just like any porno, except it’s reality, and he looks unbelievably cute. Kenny nuzzles the side of his neck.

“I think you like being called that,” he murmurs while reaching down to find the point of entry, speaking as if finally addressing the elephant in the room--woods, whatever--and he probably actually is. Craig grunts a little and shifts his weight, and Kenny continues while he’s sliding inside. “Y’know, being called a good boy. ‘Specially when you’re taking my dick like this. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Craig gasps back at him, mouth falling open when he’s filled up, his ass spreading open for Kenny’s dick with little resistance. The fingering worked out well for them both. “Kinda.”

“Yeah, kinda,” Kenny mocks him, hips moving in short but fluid motions, getting him used to it. He bites at Craig’s earlobe and delights in the way he tilts his head, encouraging more. “I’m gonna get us matching buttplugs. We can wear them at the same time.”

“What the fuck,” is Craig’s breathy response.

“Yeah, we can be like, at the movies or double-dating with Stan and Kyle or some other bullshit. We could be at school.”

“I hate those faggots,” Craig says, resting his forehead against the tree and biting back what was clearly supposed to be a moan. “Stop talking about them.”

“Then we can take turns-- _nnh_ \--fucking each other while the other keeps it in.” Craig feels pretty fucking amazing around him, hot and tight, grasping at him, and the little grunting breaths he takes every time Kenny rocks into him are unbelievably sexy. Kenny clutches his hips, licking the back of a shoulder before resting his chin over it, briefly contemplating sucking a hickey into the skin but ultimately refraining.

“S-- stop it,” Craig mutters, bringing an arm up to rest his head against instead of the tree. “I couldn’t hate you more right now.”

“Yes you could,” Kenny whispers, and then he’s gripping hard at Craig’s hips, burying his face into the side of his neck. He can be loud when he wants, but this isn’t a performance right now, and he really _doesn’t_ want them to get caught. Then he’d have to slit his own throat or go bash himself on a rock or something, and Craig would forget all about what transpired tonight.

With how much recollection stays locked away in the abyss, out of his control, out of _anyone’s_ , Kenny decided long ago that he’s never going to let Craig forget a goddamn thing. Not a goddamn thing.

He comes, gasping into the crook of Craig’s neck, and after he pulls out Craig sighs with relief and sinks back against him. Kenny kisses him on the temple as he drops the filled condom on the ground and kicks some leaves over it. If Craig notices, he doesn’t say anything about it, just catches his breath and then reaches down to tuck himself back into place again.

But his hands immediately freeze right above the waistband of his shorts.

Right. He peed himself.

“You fucking asshole,” Craig whispers with a scowl. It’s then that he continues to realign himself, before letting his hands fall to his sides.

“It’s not that noticeable,” Kenny reassures him, but then he cracks up, because it actually is. Craig shoves at him.

“We’re done,” he says. “It’s over.” But Kenny can tell by his tone that he’s not serious. He chuckles and reaches out to rub one of Craig’s shoulders.

“It’s dark and everyone’s safe in their beds, you big baby,” he remarks before reaching for Craig’s hand. Both of their hands are probably disgusting at this point, sticky from various fluids. It’s the only reason that Craig resignedly allows their fingers to tangle up together, probably, or maybe he’s just tired. “Hey,” Kenny says quietly when they draw near the cabins.

“What,” Craig whispers back. It was a comfortable silence the whole way.

“Don’t forget, or I’ll never let you live this down.” Kenny allows their hands to fall apart.

Craig’s staring at him now. “What are you talking about,” he asks, flatly.

“‘Night, Craig.” Kenny kisses him on the cheek. Craig shakes his head and stalks off the rest of the way to his cabin, where he’ll presumably change out of his wet clothing, and then proceed to lie awake in bed questioning his life and his choices. Kenny watches him go.

Craig does glance back at him over his shoulder, though. Like clockwork.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow and/or kinkshame me [here](http://metroph0bic.tumblr.com).


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